The Ever Circling Path
by Roguie
Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, one that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of the journey.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 1 of 8

Author: Roguie etc.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Killian/Emma

Rating: Let's go with T for now.

Spoilers: Just assume everything up to date is fair game; AU from Shattered Mirror on unless I get really creative.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, one that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of the journey.

Disclaimer: OuaT isn't mine, has never been, probably will never be unless someone out there is feeling generous and wants to hire a poor girl. Until that day… yep, not gonna make a cent.

A/N: Don't yell at me! Don't yell at me! I intend to get back to Innocent Hearts shortly; my muse is just being stubborn. If it helps any, this one is completely plotted out from beginning to end; all I have to do is fill in the filler. ;)

Oh and I totally stole the basic idea for this story out of Kristy Bromberg's novel Crashed. If you haven't read Driven, Fueled and Crashed and you love an epic steamy romance with characters that will gut you from page one and never let go… yeah, read the trilogy; time well spent! Anyway, I've shamelessly stolen a little idea out of her great creation, just to give credit where credit's due. And yeah, okay, so it's not the same circumstance, and really has nothing to do with anything, but yeah, she gave me the idea. (*cough* read Driven *cough*)

Stroke the muse if you want chapters faster, just remember there are only 8, so the faster you ask for them, the faster this will be over. :)

~~~?~~~

It was quiet in Storybrooke without the threat of the Snow Queen looming over their heads. Days had passed without event, the ice wall surrounding the town had melted away, and life returned to the normal dull chaos that was natural for the transplanted fairy tale icons.

Emma's days grew together in mediocrity: climb out of bed in the morning, shower, dress, meet Mary Margaret in the kitchen for coffee, play with Neal, head to the station, organize paperwork or stare at the walls. At lunch she'd meet Killian at Granny's; they would walk through town, steal a few kisses, talk about nothing important until he walked her to the station and they parted ways.

She wished she could say that they'd moved forward from the initial days of awkwardness following their return from the past. She wished she could say she'd easily forgiven him for his secretive doings with Gold. She wished she could say he'd forgiven her for not realizing his heart no longer beat in his chest, no matter how desperately he'd tried to make them both believe nothing had changed. In the end, trust had fractured between them both. They'd built their relationship on the understanding that each could read the other like an open book, that their thoughts, their emotions, their very souls existed on display for the other to understand, and yet, they'd failed each other so completely that her heart had yet to recover. He'd dealt in secrets and betrayal, and she'd failed to see beyond the mask behind which he'd taken cover. He didn't trust in their love enough to believe she would stay, and she didn't believe enough in their love to trust the whispers in her heart that told her something beyond Ingrid's mirror dark shards was tearing him from her arms.

The progress they'd made in the days before he'd traded his heart for his hand was all but lost in the days that followed normality. Fortunately, the energy that grew between them couldn't be fractured as easily as trust, and rather than lose each other entirely, they started over at square one. Coffee dates at Granny's took the place of candle lit dinners. Slow, chaste kisses filled in for make out sessions that had once tested their will power and left them panting for more. Their talks, which had once consisted of private, painful details of their well protected histories, now skirted along the edge of acquaintance; how was work, how is Henry, is Killian looking to move from the bed and breakfast, does Emma still wish her own place? So on and so forth they circled each other, once again caught in an uncertain dance that left them both sad and alone, neither willing to make the first move to put them back on track.

The stupidest part was that she'd already forgiven him his mistakes; she just couldn't find the words or actions to show him that she finally understood. Everyone's emotions get the better of them at some time or another in their lives, the only difference with Killian is that when his emotions cloud his judgment, it's Killian's emotions clouding Captain Hook's judgment. The result of Hook making emotion based decisions was never less than messy, especially when fear of loss, something of which he was intimately familiar, was the dominant feeling he'd struggled to control.

The whole Killian situation is how she found herself leaving the Sheriff's station alone that night, where normally Killian would have walked her home just to steal a few moments of privacy away from their over filled lives. Instead, she twirled the keys to her bug around her fingers, fighting the urge to call Killian and beg him to forgive her obstinance.

She was so distracted by her thoughts that when her phone buzzed with Killian's text tone, the keys she'd been spinning on her fingers flew out of her grasp and landed a scant inch from the sewer grate in front of the building. She couldn't keep her instant scowl off her face as she dug the keys out of the slush filled puddle, shaking them off briskly.

"Captain Hook, my ass; Captain Bad Timing more like it," she muttered to herself as she pulled out her phone, quickly reading the text, frowning and then rereading it to make sure she understood.

_Where as normally good form would see that I escort you home, princess, I was hoping, instead, that you'd be up for a bit of an adventure. If so, see the window of your yellow vessel. I look forward to your response, love, and perhaps your attention throughout this evening._

Curiosity getting the better of her, she moved towards her car, noticing the carefully wrapped box that lay on the dash within. She climbed into her driver's seat, shutting the door behind her, before reaching out to take the small box in her hands. Before opening it, she shot a quick text back to the pirate.

_What're you up to, Killian?_

It only took seconds before he replied.

_Just an adventure, love, nothing more. Don't you trust me?_

His words were like a knife through her heart, and her fingers sped across the virtual keyboard, answering as quickly as she could to avoid any accusation of hesitation.

_Implicitly._

She could almost feel the sudden warmth that came through with his final text, a small smile lighting her face as she definitely could feel the tension beginning to bleed from her body.

_Then I suppose I'll see you at the finish. Happy adventuring to you, Swan._

Without further delay, she tore the small bit of paper from the box, her brow furrowing in confusion as she held up a single bean, wrapped in an ornate metal clasp, dangling from a silver chain. Beneath it lay a folded paper, Killian's distinctive scrolling penmanship visible between the layers.

Emma,

Due to circumstance, I fear I cannot ask you to return to the very first adventure we shared. With only one bean remaining from my trade of the Jolly Roger, I cannot promise that if we returned to our beanstalk we'd ever again see the shores of Storybrooke. So rather than tempt the cruel mistress of fate, perhaps you would find it in your heart to return, instead, to the fields in this world that once grew fertile with beans, and tempted your return to my lands. At the center of the field you will find your next leg of our adventure. A woman as astute as yourself should have no trouble recognizing where I have placed your next clue.

With great affection and respect,

Yours,

Killian.

A small tremble coursed through Emma's body; it had been many long days since they'd been on a level that spoke of love rather than acquaintance. It seemed the adventure he set her upon was his version of taking the first step out of their seemingly unending neutrality and back onto the path of something more.

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile reached her eyes as she turned over the engine and headed just out of town to where the old bean fields remained. A shimmer of excitement flushed her cheeks; she couldn't wait to see what he had in store.

~~~TBC~~~

**Coming Soon:**

"_As you once imprisoned me, love, I, too, imprisoned you. How far have we've come in our battle to deny our hearts' desires? These last days with you, yet apart, have shown me that nothing again will come between us; you have imprisoned me once again, love, only this time you've taken my heart and locked it far away. Further than even the impish fingers of Rumplestiltskin could ever reach. Would it be poor form to tell you that I truly wish for you to never set it free? Perhaps we could negotiate a prisoner exchange of sorts? If you find yourself willing, I would carry your heart with me in place of my own, always."_

**How soon it's posted is entirely up to you!**

Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it's a bloody awful waste of her time, and just makes it that much longer between updates.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 2 of 8

Author: Roguie

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Killian/Emma

Rating: T – for now.

Spoilers: Probably – AU from Shattered Mirror onwards unless I get creative.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, one that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of the journey which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: OuaT isn't mine, never has been, never will be. Not that I'm not willing… I'm very willing… but somehow I think I'm the only one. :P~

A/N: So, as you may have noticed, my writing time is very, very limited right now. Some how about two and a half weeks ago a promotion was dropped into my lap. Stupidly, I said the first thing that came to mind, which was hell yes! I think that was the last full night I slept. LOL! For those who want Innocent Hearts updates, I'm trying! For those who want Circling Path updates, I'm doing it! For those who want Permanent Measures updates, yeah, um, gimme a while on that one. I will finish it, but just not right away. Every fic will be updated as time allows – maybe after the Christmas season passes I can get back to non 70 hour work weeks. That would be nice.

~~~?~~~

The road to what had once been the town's bean fields was free and clear of what had become the ever present danger of ice and snow. Emma drove with a smile on her face, Killian's teasing note enough to lighten the stress and boredom of her day as she traveled closer to whatever he had in store for them that evening. She parked along the side of the road, setting her four ways on to not tempt any kind of ill willed fate on the dark night before she made her way in to the shriveled remains of the stalks the town had once slaved over growing.

He'd said she'd know immediately where he'd hidden her next clue, so with a quick eye she scanned the field for anything out of the ordinary. Dark shadows hid the field further from her view, and as she stood looking out into that darkness, a small frown of confusion marred her pale skin. All she could see were the charred and lifeless remains of stalk after stalk, and on the edge of the field, trees that provided even further darkness and shadow to what was already a murky pool of black.

It was the third time that she scanned the field that she realized all but one of the trees on the furthest edge were nearly identical, your every day basic deciduous variety of branch and bark. The one tree in the center, however, stood rounder and grew far more awkwardly upwards with no branches to be seen.

"What the hell?"

Emma wasted no time in moving across the field, her step sure with her certainty that the random shadow was exactly what Killian had been talking about. As she grew closer, her frown turned into a smirk which developed into a full on grin just steps before she stood at the base of a small beanstalk. The green foliage of the stalk spoke to the borrowed magic that surrounded the impossible plant. Emma could practically feel the touch of Regina in the air around her, and she grinned wider. As heart broken as the Queen remained, it spoke volumes to the changes she'd made in her life that allowed her to give this favor to Killian, a man she admittedly has nothing in the way of warm feelings towards.

Pinned to the center of the stalk was a small, handwritten note.

**"Climb me."**

Emma giggled out loud before covering her mouth and glancing around to ensure she was truly alone. She hesitated only a moment before reaching up and finding a hand hold on the stalk, beginning the short climb to the small platform she could now see about twenty feet over her head. The platform was made of old deck wood, similar to the planks aboard the Jolly Roger, which only served to remind Emma of the sacrifices the pirate had made to be in her life. She sighed quietly, biting her lip before climbing fully onto the boards, her eyes suspiciously misty in the moment before she wiped a quick hand across her face and visibly steeled herself for what was to come.

In the center of the platform lay a long box, tied together with a handkerchief she couldn't help but recognize. He'd cleaned it since the day she'd given it back to him, stained with grime and a small amount of blood, but the shredded ends proved it was none other than the piece of cloth with which he'd tended to the beanstalk inflicted wound she had incurred the very first days they met. She was helpless against the laughter that bubbled from her lips, defenseless against the salty tears that blurred her vision as she reached out and drew the box into her lap, resting her back against the thick root of beanstalk that pierced through the center of the crafted platform.

Her fingers trembled as she untied the handkerchief that she could hardly believe he'd kept, and continued to shake slightly the entire time that she forced herself to fold it neatly and tuck it away in the breast pocket of her jacket. If it had meant enough to him to keep the cloth years ago, she'd not let go of it now.

Carefully she opened the box, a snorting bit of laughter escaping her as her eyes landed on the silver flask that lay within. The flask lay nestled beneath the fragrant bloom of a long stemmed red rose, atop its thorny stem, the rose's leaves curling around the metal as though holding it in a gentle embrace. A message was engraved into the silver in scrawling calligraphy. **"Drink me."**

Feeling, all of the sudden, a bit like Alice in Wonderland, she freed the flask from the rose's grip, opening it and tipping it to her lips, her eyes rolling as the warmth of the smooth rum within flowed instantly through her body.

"Of course it's rum. He couldn't forget a single detail, could he? Nope, not Killian Jones. Not the dreaded Captain Hook."

With a groan she picked up her phone and texted him a quick message.

_"Really? Rum?"_

_"What else would you have from me, love? Pirate, remember?"_

_"I'm sitting all alone at the top of a magical beanstalk on what I can only assume is enchanted wood, drinking rum from a brand new silver flask with very Wonderland type instructions carved into it. I'm not sure there's much else I can honestly hope to have from you, Killian. Thank you."_

_"Is the rum keeping you warm, Swan?"_

She grinned before taking another quick sip, dragging out her slowly typed response.

_"Yep. Toasty warm."_

_"Then history shall not repeat itself with the waste of it. Have you read your clue?"_

_"Nope, enjoying the rum instead."_

She could almost hear his warm chuckle as his response lit her screen. _"Perhaps you should wait a while before enjoying any more of that rum. It is a fairly potent alcohol, Swan, and we've not yet come to the point in our evening where you'll be provided a second captain for your yellow vessel. I'd hate to spend this evening worrying for your safety, love."_

_"If you want me to read the note, Killian, just say read the note. There's no need to dress up your demands thinking I won't see what you're doing."_

_"Swan?"_

_"Yes, Killian?"_

_"Read the bloody note, love."_

_"See, wasn't that so much easier?"_

If she'd been in the room with him, she'd not be able to control the laughter that would come with the curses that would drip past his lips in frustration. She could almost hear the words infuriating bloody woman fill the air around her, his voice clipped somewhere between annoyance and amusement, but always softened with an echo of the sweet love she'd fought against from him for so very long.

She plucked the note from beneath the rose, gasping slightly when a thorn pricked at the flesh of her palm, drawing the smallest drop of blood from her skin. Without thinking she pulled Killian's handkerchief back out of her pocket and tied off the small wound, pausing only a moment later to laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire night.

"Let's hope this is the only part of history doomed to repeat itself," she chuckled softly to herself while opening the thin paper, decorated with his scrawling writing.

Emma,

As you once imprisoned me, love, I, too, imprisoned you. How far have we come in our battle to deny our hearts' desires? The last days with you, yet apart, have shown me that nothing again will come between us; you have imprisoned me once again, love; only this time you've taken my heart and locked it far away. Further than even the impish fingers of Rumplestiltskin could ever reach. Would it be poor form to tell you that I truly wish for you never to set it free? Perhaps we could negotiate a prisoner exchange of sorts? If you find yourself willing, I would carry your heart with me in place of my own, always. I care not to relive our days of shackles within the dens of giants or bars tainted by the lingering presence of the crocodile; however, within this land there lays a prison which has failed to contain us both. You'll find your next clue behind those bars, Swan, and perhaps company with which you may share your flask of rum. Safe travels, love, and happy adventuring.

With great love and respect,

Yours,

Killian

She caught herself mid sniffle before realizing the cascade of emotion that threatened to drown her. Quickly she wiped at her face, drawing in a deep, calming breath and downing a slow swallow of rum before climbing to her feet. She tucked the flask into her coat pocket and the box protecting the rose and note into her bag before slipping gracefully off the platform and back onto the thick stalk beneath. It took seconds to climb down to the relative safety of ground, and she glanced back up at the beanstalk and platform for just one moment longer, nodding to herself.

"Thank you," she whispered into the darkness, and as if having heard her, purple smoke surrounded the beanstalk, obscuring it from Emma's view. When the smoke cleared, the stalk was gone, the field returned to how it had been before Killian had asked Regina to alter the landscape.

She trudged back to her beetle silently, slipping behind the wheel as she turned the car around on the deserted road and headed back exactly the way she'd come. Thankfully, she had her keys to the sheriff's office on the same chain as the key to her car, as Killian obviously wanted her to return to the jail. She shook her head as she headed back out into the night, her thoughts never straying far from her pirate and the efforts he was putting into bringing them back together. No one was more eager than she to be back on the same page as the man who could once read her without hesitation. No one was more ready than Emma to be back in Killian's arms.

~~~TBC~~~

**Next Time on the Ever Circling Path:**

_A second small note lay with in, salty, warm tears streaking crystal paths down her cheeks as she read his thoughtful words, knowing no hesitance lay within the stroke of his hand. "Not to replace the past, but to invite the future. I'll leave the acceptance of this gift in your hands, love, without a trace of pressure to accept. I, perhaps more than anyone else in your life, understand."_

**Coming Soon!**

_~Remember, much like magic all muses come with a price. This muses price is the little box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it's such a bloody awful waste of her very limited time, don't you think? _


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 3/8

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Killian/Emma

Rating: T – for now

Spoilers: Probably – AU from Shattered Mirror onwards

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: OuaT isn't mine, never has been, never will be. If I were a weaker person I'd cry myself to sleep at night knowing there are no truer words spoken.

A/N: Sorry for the delays in all my updates; as I'd mentioned, I was rather unexpectedly promoted at work, which means I'm working upwards of 70 hours a week right now. That limits my spare time in ways I wish I could avoid, but hey, the money is good, the people are good, and my big boss is on vacation this week so at least I can get a few words written here or there. Don't be shy to talk at me… reviews are my crack and the muse has the IV line already hooked up and waiting for the bag to fill.

~~~?~~~

To say she was startled to find the door to the Sheriff's office opened, mere hours after she'd personally locked up for the night, was an understatement. It took everything in her power not to withdraw her gun from its holster on her hip, some gentle reasoning in her heart explaining that Killian had to have gained access to the station to place whatever clue he'd wanted to place. Instead of panicking, she slowly entered the dimly lit building, treading silently down the hallway until the low sound of a male voice reached her ears.

She was somewhat unsurprised to find that the voice she could hear held all the love she'd come to expect from Killian Jones, but nothing of his accented tones or clipped, old time methods of speaking. Instead, she found her father sitting behind his desk, his feet up on the table, conversing with his wife in a quiet manner. He met her eyes as she entered the room, flashing a quick wave and a grin, nodding his chin towards the jail cell before returning his full attention to his tired wife.

Emma moved slowly through the familiar room, entering the unlocked cell with ease, glancing around curiously. On top of the single cot lay another box, layered in bold blue tissue paper. On top of the box lay a small velvet jewelry case. She moved forward swiftly, picking up the little case and opening it with trembling fingers. The little gasp that escaped her lips filled the quiet room, one hand rising to cover her mouth, one hand shaking as she looked down at the little necklace that lay within. It was a single magic bean encased in a silver setting, shoe strings making up the chain to hold it in place around her neck. Beneath the necklace was a new note:

_Emma,_

_With your penchant for running, love, I have a better chance of keeping you by my side if I provide your escape. Life with me will never be a trap, though together we've faced a few. Where once I traded my ship for a bean such as this in order to bring you back into my life, now I offer you the final bean in my cache to use as you see fit. I can only hope that you will use this offering as a method to return to my arms rather than constructing a path away, however I wish nothing more than your happiness, whatever that may be. Come to where you used your beautiful lips to breathe life back into an old pirate, giving him a second chance at a life I will never again take for granted, knowing the cost, however temporary, you paid to keep me at your side._

_With much love and respect,_

_Yours,_

_Killian._

She lifted open the top of the larger box, sifting between the thin layers of tissue paper, startled by her own giggle as she gently pulled free another rose, careful this time of the thorns. Beneath the rose lay a white gold charm adorned with a white gold swan pendant, wings spread, diamonds for eyes and a small ruby heart in its chest. A second small note lay in with the charm. Salty, warm tears streaked crystal paths down her cheeks as she read his thoughtful words, knowing no hesitance lay within the stroke of his hand.

_My love,_

_I know the thoughts that are running through your head, and I know your fingers are torn between fondling the swan at your neck or the bootlace on your wrist. Please understand the intent behind my gift. This trinket is not meant to replace the past, nor the memories of the men behind your current adornings, but to invite a future with the man who would kneel at your feet for nothing more than the touch of your fingers upon his cheek. I'll leave the acceptance of this gift in your hands, love, without a trace of pressure to accept. I, perhaps more than anyone else in your life, understand._

_With much love and respect,_

_Your Killian._

Through tear blurred eyes she attached the small charm to the bootlace necklace holding her magic bean. She had told Hook barely anything with regards to Graham, and looking back, he knew very little of her history with Neal, yet the man saw through her without hesitance. He understood the meaning behind the charms she wore so faithfully with no trace of jealousy or self doubt with regards to his position in her heart. They had passed from her life with no more than a whimper, leaving a storm in their wake that battered her broken heart with merciless thunder; Killian fought to come back to her at every turn, even in the face of the loss of all hope. He was here, standing strong, vowing to never leave.

Trusting Killian's promise to survive, she slowly removed Neal's keychain turned necklace. Trusting Killian's vow to stand by her, trembling fingers untied Graham's bootlace from her wrist. Her voice was raw and broken as she turned her head towards her father, who, with a quick goodnight to his wife, immediately appeared by her side.

"Can… can you please put this on me?"

Her father's eyes were warm and loving as he brushed her hair from her neck, taking the necklace from her grasp with gentle fingers, closing the clasp with a well practiced twist.

"Better?"

Wordlessly she nodded, wiping the errant tears from her cheeks, smiling at her father through every hard won emotion that rolled through her sea green eyes.

David inclined his head towards the door to the station, pulling his keys from his pocket and twirling them around his finger, making them jangle loudly in the silent space that surrounded them.

"Get a move on, daughter of mine. You have an impatient pirate waiting for you, and the man invited me to drive."

A sharp chuckle broke through Emma's tears, earning her a full on Charming mega watt smile as she repacked her rose and gathered the boxes into her arms.

"Well if he invited you to drive, then I guess we'd better get started, Grandpa. We don't have all night, now do we?"

David stared at her for a long moment as she walked purposely through the office and paused at the door, glancing back at his stunned face.

"What?"

Her father chuckled, shaking his head. "Children were never so insolent to their parents in my day."

The light, happy laughter that filled the space between them lifted David's heart. "Yeah, and in your day you still traveled by horse and buggy. I still have the calluses on my ass to prove it, too."

"Just remember, by all rights and purposes, we are technically the same age."

"So?"

David grinned. "So, hello pot, you're black."

"Potato, potahto. I'm not the one who slept through 28 years."

"Keep it up and I can arrange that for you."

Emma laughed lightly, locking the door behind David and walking with him to his truck. It was different having an honest to God, kind, loving family. She didn't have to worry that one of her offhand comments would send them away, not now, not ever. She was free to use her cutting, sarcastic wit, knowing she'd get back just as much as she dished out, and she was okay with that.

No, she was fantastic with that.

Hell, she was bloody brilliant with that.

She only regretted how long it took her to understand, both about her family and about Killian. Thank God, through curses and comas, time jumps and time freezes, they would have the time to make up for her reluctance to let them in.

"C'mon, old man, let's go see what the pirate has in store for us next."

For once, she couldn't wait to see what was around the next bend.

~~~TBC~~~

**Next Time on the Ever Circling Path:**

"_You have brought me back to life in ways you'll never fully understand. My mind, my body, my heart and dare I say my soul; as a whole, I am here today for you, because of you. You may be called the Savior by the town, but, my love, you are my own personal savior in every way that matters."_

**Coming Soon!**

_Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seem such a bloody awful waste of her time, don't you agree?_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 4/8

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Emma/Killian

Rating: T

Spoilers: Yep.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine, if they were – well, hiatuses just would not exist.

A/N: Half way to the finish with this fiction… that's the one thing I love about having something entirely plotted out before starting the actual writing – it's so much easier to pick up writing when I know where I'm going! :P~

~~~?~~~

The road to the old farmhouse was well worn from their attempts to free Rumpelstiltskin, to destroy Zelena and most recently to shut down the time portal that had opened her eyes to her home and family, and the love a certain pirate held unassumingly in his heart. Less than a mile from the farmhouse, David pulled to the side of the road, shrugging as he climbed out of the truck.

"Half the ground between here and the farmhouse is frozen solid. I'll rip off the bottom of my truck if I hit a pothole." He offered as explanation as they began the familiar trek to the old farmhouse. It didn't take them long to skirt around the house to the back where the worn pool lay unassumingly innocent in the midst of the frozen field.

Emma shuddered immediately as she laid eyes upon the pool, all the emotions of the long moments between pulling Killian's unresponsive body out of the water and the most welcome sight of his open, confused, angry blue eyes as they met her own while he rose from the dead, overwhelming her for a single frozen second.

"He's fine, Em. You brought him back. He didn't bring you here to focus on his death, but what your actions that day meant to him." David rested a warm hand on his daughter's shoulder, his voice a warm comfort in the wake of such cold memories.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. It's just, if I hadn't been such a bitch to him that day then maybe…"

"Maybe he wouldn't have followed you into danger? Yeah, because that sounds like Hook."

"No, I mean, maybe we would have been more alert if we weren't fighting like a couple of five year olds. Maybe…"

"Emma, stop," David sighed in exasperation. "Listen, my mother used to say that nothing ever happens that isn't meant to happen. No matter what was said between you that day, it would have changed nothing. Killian would still have drowned. You would have still brought him back. Regina would still have stepped up and defeated her sister. You still would have traveled through the past, and you would still be standing here today on the verge of something huge. Everything that happens is meant to happen for a reason, Em."

Emma sniffed quietly, turning to hug her father tightly. "When did you go and get all fatherly on me?"

David chuckled, making a show of checking his watch. "Oh, I don't know, thirty years ago, give or take a week." His arms tightened around her as he held her close. "I may not have always been there for you, Emma, but I've always been your father."

"I know." Her voice was small and muffled by his thick suede jacket, but it brought a huge smile to his face anyway.

"Now, get over there and find out what your pirate dragged our asses out into the cold for."

Emma approached the pool slowly, moving around the metal structure until she saw the dress bag on a hanger, dangling from the side of the pool. A note is pinned to the outside of the bag, carefully done so as not to rend the fabric within.

My Dearest Emma,

You brought me back to life in ways you will never fully understand, love. My mind, my body, my heart and dare I say my soul; as a whole, I am here today for you, because of you. You may be called the Savior by the town, but, my love, you are my own personal savior. Come next to where your walls began to thaw and finally allowed an impatient old pirate a glimpse of hope. Oh, and Swan? Put the bloody dress on, love. The sight of you in such finery forces this old heart to pound out of rhythm and reminds me, with every aching beat, that I am indeed alive.

With great respect and admiration,

Always,

Your Killian.

Emma covered her mouth as she chuckled to herself, rolling her eyes before unzipping the bag and revealing a delicate champagne coloured cocktail dress that would mesh perfectly with the white gold and diamonds in her new necklace. She couldn't help the tears that spring to her eyes as her thoughts turned to the trouble he would have had to have gone through to procure the perfect dress; learning her size, shopping, finding that absolutely perfect match to each piece of her outfit he'd given her that night. The traitorous tears escaped down over her cheeks as she re-zipped the dress bag, holding it to her chest with trembling hands.

"Ridiculous pirate," she muttered to herself, wiping at her eyes. Slipping her phone from her pocket with her free hand, she quickly pulled up Killian's name.

_**The dress is beautiful.**_

_I am truly pleased that you feel so, love. Perhaps you will finally agree that your beauty deserves to be adorned by the most delicate finery in all your lands?_

_**I'm not gonna go that far, Killian, but I admit you have good taste.**_

_You are dreadfully hard on yourself, Swan. Would that you could only see yourself as I do._

_**With raccoon makeup and hair that could rival a scarecrow's?**_

_Eyes like the brightest jewels, hair like spun silk, incredibly flawless skin, a smile that could stop hearts._

_**Shut up. You're a crazy man.**_

_I admit I am afflicted, love, but not it is not an affliction of the mind, rather an affliction of the heart._

_**Is that why you created this scavenger hunt? To force me to accept your ridiculous gifts?**_

_Gifts you admit to admiring, Swan._

_**Whatever; all girls like pretty things. C'mon, though, be honest?**_

_I am always honest with you, love. You'll understand the point behind this grand adventure when you've reached the final clue. It would be poor form to give away the ending when you are no more than a few steps from the end._

_**I have no shoes to go with this dress.**_

_Oh, Emma, love. You have brought tears to my eyes from laughter. Your concerns are as irrelevant as the frost upon the ground - I guarantee that they will be gone by sunrise._

_**What does that even mean?**_

_It means wait for your next clue, Swan, and stop being so bloody determined to know the end of the book before you have read the journey within the pages._

_**Fine. But understand this: I'm coming for you, Hook.**_

_Aye, love. That you shall. _

Emma blushed bright red, a strangled giggle escaping her lips before sheer determination filled her eyes. She glared at the phone for just a moment before pocketing it, clutching at the dress bag and turning to face her father, hoping the heat of her cheeks faded before she was in distance of the man who had helped create her.

Fearing himself forgotten, David watched silently as his daughter crumbled just slightly, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting whom he could only assume to be the pirate himself. In moments, her back went ramrod straight, her fingers no longer trembling as she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks to clear her face of any trace of emotion. By the time she turned to face him, her green eyes were dancing with excitement, the dress held in a death grip, and determination fed her every single step towards him. Without a word he let her pass, purposely not mentioning the hot flush that stained her face a pale pink, something she could attribute to the chill of the wind but David knew better. He'd seen the same look on her mother's face far too many times to mistake what emotion caused the blush that now set the green of her eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"C'mon, Dad. Looks like your duties as chauffeur aren't over yet."

"Where to, Mistress?" David grinned and bent forward in an exaggerated bow, laughing as Emma rolled her eyes, slugging him lightly in the shoulder as she walked by.

"The town line."

~~~TBC~~~

**In the Next Part:**

_All of my broken pieces found their proper place inside me on that cold night, my love, the night you allowed me to hold you close to my body and give you my warmth. I had thought those pieces fell into place with you, as well, but still you have made me fight for what I want. Bloody infuriating woman._

**Coming Soon!**

_Remember much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you agree?_


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 5/8

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Emma/Killian

Rating: T

Spoilers: Yep.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine, if they were – well, hiatuses just would not exist.

A/N: Hmm, Killian got a little wordsy with his letters here, but then, ugh, seriously, where's the place I can trade my husband for a pirate of my very own? On the other hand, what does this pirate have up his sleeve that he's leading her towards? Whatever it is, it certainly feels big. ;) The man has plans!

~~~?~~~

There were no words shared between father and daughter as they made their way silently back across town to the ever present threat of the town border. Where for weeks there had been a wall of ice surrounding them, protecting them, trapping them, there were now layers of ice, snow and water where the great wall once stood. The ground where the ice had bit into it was scarred: rock, asphalt, dirt and grass split open and burned black by the frigid material, a mar on the earth that would not fade until enough time had passed to wipe the slate clean once again.

From where they sat in the truck, they could see the Storybrooke town sign. Resting on the left poster was a small duffle bag. With a sigh, David urged the truck forward, stopping directly beside the sign to limit the amount of time Emma would have to spend in the frigid night, patting her hand slightly as she finally moved to get out of the car.

As a father, he could tell the events of the night were taking an emotional toll on his emotionally shuttered child. Her eyes were bright green but rimmed with red from the sheer amount of tears she'd shed over the last hours. Her hands were constantly trembling, not from cold, but from the pure force of will it was taking to hold her thoughts and feelings together, to prevent them from spilling out into one hot mess of emotional baggage. She pulled her too thin jacket tighter around her body as she moved slowly towards the bag, leaving him watching without comment as she gathered her last bit of strength, steeled her spine and took the final step forward.

Knowing something that would make her laugh through uncontrollable tears would lay within the duffle bag, Emma released the envelope that Killian had left pinned to the bag with her name written across the paper in fine calligraphy first.

My Dearest Emma,

When I first came to your realm, I was imperfect. I was consumed by a vengeance that no longer mattered, and fell to pieces in the face of my perceived failing. You pulled me back together: when the vehicle shattered my bones mere feet from where you now stand, when the crocodile survived my poisoning (an act that in hindsight would have cost this town more than his death is worth to me), when you made me a part of something and allowed me to assist in finding your boy, when you clung to me in New York while every false memory battled with every memory true, when you kissed me time and again, fanning the sparks of hope I had carefully nurtured through a year and a half of solitude. Each and every care you took to look towards me as something important in your life pulled my broken parts back into something that resembled the man in which my brother placed his pride, but when you finally, finally chose my arms in which to seek comfort, all my broken bits found their proper place inside me, my love, the night you allowed me to hold you close to my body and give you my warmth. I thought those pieces had fallen into place with you as well, but still you made me fight for what I want. Bloody irritating woman. Days passed until I found a strange sort of happiness, shadowing your doorstep as I prepared to court you with romantic skills I had long thought dead. You were my first "first date", love, and with luck my very last. As such, you will find your next clue where you asked me in for a cup of coffee we both knew I had no choice but to refuse.

With great love and respect,

Always,

Your Killian.

She cursed him quietly under her breath as she wiped away the now familiar fresh trail of tears that warmed her cheeks. She could taste the salt on her lips, feel the tremble in her limbs, and cursed the way her heart beat out of rhythm in her chest, but still she opened the small bag and carefully looked inside. Immediately she burst into laughter, shaking her head in disbelief. Of course. He could never bring himself to overlook a single detail, not when it came to her.

Inside the bag lay high heeled shoes that strapped over her calf and carried up to her knees. They were the exact champagne colour of her new dress, the toes decorated with white gold charms that matched the charm on her necklace with perfection. As before, a second note lay within.

My Dearest Emma,

I beg of you, Swan, allow your mother her fun. The woman has earned a moment or two of joy herself, and nothing makes her happier than being a part of your life. Where you waited years to have your mother at your side, she has waited a life time to stand beside you. Allow her to stand with you tonight. I say this not out of fear the good lady will take her bow to my heart if she were to discover that I involved your father yet failed to take her into consideration, but out of the love I hold for you and your family both. Together, you have filled all the gaps I have spent centuries missing, though if you mention this letter to David or the princess Snow White, I may be forced to don the Hook persona in their presence in order to save face.

Ah, Emma, you have no idea how simple it is to put these thoughts to paper, yet at the same time how difficult it is knowing by the end of this adventure you will have seen my entire heart. The love I hold for you is, quite honestly, terrifying. Though my mind knows differently, my heart fears that you will not return my affections no matter what I have convinced myself to believe I can see in your eyes. Still, regardless of that fear, I am here, sharing the secrets of my soul in the only way I know to ensure that you will truly listen. You hold my heart in your hands, love; I beg of you to show it mercy.

With great love and respect,

Always,

Your Killian

"Emma, get back in the truck, it's too damn cold to be standing out here all night."

She snapped her head back to face David just in time to see his breath puff away into the night and the window of the truck roll back into place. Incredulous, stunned, happy giggles escaped her lips as she grabbed the bag off the sign and ran for the truck, leaping into her seat and closing the door after her, grateful for the heat provided by the truck to chase away the chill she hadn't actually felt.

Her cheeks were tinged red with cold and excitement, her grin was infectious as David's lips curved to match her own, and she did nothing to hide the happy tears that threatened to spill as she whispered her next quiet words.

"Take me home, Daddy."

Thankfully the road gave David an excuse not to look at his daughter as she practically vibrated in her seat. After all, he couldn't have her see him cry.

**~~~TBC~~~**

**In the next chapter:**

_Ah, Swan, wondering where your gifts are, are you, love? Perhaps I have gone and spoiled you, have I? I can only hope so as it is something that you will have to learn to accept. As the woman who holds my heart, you will have everything in our life, and you will never, ever want for love, family or home another second in this existence._

**Coming soon!**

_Remember, much like magic, all muses have a price. This muse's price is that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you agree? _


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 6/8

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Emma/Killian

Rating: T

Spoilers: Yep.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: OuaT is not mine… and I cry into a wine glass every night mourning that fact. On the up side.. only 5 days to go until it's back!

A/N: Almost done now folks.. only two wee little chappies to go and then this tale is over and done with at long last. ;) Hope you're still with me and enjoying ;)

~~~?~~~

David watched with a resigned smile as Emma slipped out of the truck and rushed into the apartment building, up the stairs to the loft she shared with her parents. He'd give her a few moments alone with her mother before heading up himself and visiting quietly with his newborn son.

Emma's arms were loaded down with the garment bag holding her new dress and the duffel bag holding her new shoes, not to mention the multiple boxes of roses she awkwardly balanced under her elbow as she approached the loft door. True to his word, there was a note pinned to the large wooden door, pinning another addition to her rose bouquet into place, but there was no package to open.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she released the rose and added it to the collection in her arms, fumbling to open the note, not even beginning to pretend she didn't eagerly devour every single perfectly scripted word.

_Good Evening, Swan,_

_Wondering where your gift is, are you? Perhaps I've gone and spoiled you, have I? I can only hope so as it is something you will have to learn to accept in a life spent with me. As the woman who holds my heart in her hands, you will want for nothing in our life, and you will never, ever question love, family or whether you are home another second in this existence. Your gift is inside, love, and though perhaps you will curse me tonight, I believe that one day you will find yourself cherishing this memory as I cherish every memory I have of you. I love you, Swan, and so long as you allow me the honour of standing by your side, I promise that you will never be alone another moment in your life._

_When you are finished allowing your mother her fun, come to where my home once waited for us to fill her with life. From there, your path will be clear._

_With great love and respect,_

_Always yours,_

_Killian Jones_

Her fingers trembled visibly as she pushed open the door to the loft, only to find a smiling Mary Margaret waiting inside, vibrating in place as she stepped forward to grab the various boxes from Emma's arms and dragged her daughter deeper into the apartment.

"Mom," Emma started, a warning tone in her voice.

"No. Shut up." Emma blinked at her mother in disbelief, a single eyebrow raised, her lips quirking upwards at the corners. "Emma, honey, I love you with every breath in my body, but please, for one night, just shut up. I have been in your corner, fighting for you, every minute since we broke the curse. I loved you from a distance when you couldn't bear to let me close, I loved you close when you finally, finally realized what you had waiting for you here in Storybrooke. I have listened to you cry, listen to you laugh, and God, I've been honoured to watch you fall in love, Emma." When the blonde's mouth opened to protest, Mary Margaret pinned her with her best stern gaze.

"Geez, Neal's not gonna know what hit him," Emma muttered quietly, wisely holding her tongue as her mother began dragging her up the stairs and pushing her into the bathroom.

"Don't you dare say that you don't love him, Emma, because if you can honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love him, that you can imagine any part of your life without him, then we will surely lose a good friend tonight, baby. You have the power to destroy him; irregardless of your own questions, he has NEVER questioned you. Do you know how I got David to back off when you openly started dating Hook?"

Emma pursed her lips and sighed. "No, Mom, how?"

"I didn't. Do you understand, Emma? I didn't. Oh, sure, I spent an inordinate amount of time talking about how much happier you were after spending the smallest amounts of time with him, but that was just pure observation. I sat on the sidelines waving pom poms because I want both my babies to find their true loves, Emma, but Hook won your father over all on his own. Okay, so he's not happy about his little girl shaking up with a pirate, his words not mine, but Emma, he is happy that you've found Killian. Haven't you noticed?"

Emma thought back to the entire night spent with David driving her from one ridiculous location to the next, wiping her tears, teasing her, encouraging her to move on to the next step closer to where her pirate waited. No under the breath mutterings, no maybe she could do better elsewheres, nothing to deter her from following this whole thing through and finding her place back in Killian's arms. No, David had supported this from beginning to what was rapidly winding down to the end. A soft huff of breath escaped Emma's lips as she pulled her shirt over her head and began shimmying out of her jeans, turning the shower water to scalding as she looked back at her mother.

"Yeah, Mom, I noticed."

"So, are you on board with this? One hundred percent on board with giving that poor man a chance at truly winning your heart?"

Emma chuckled wryly, shaking her head. "Yeah. I'll talk to him tonight."

"Good. Right. Good. Well then, get in the shower so we can get this night started. You have one more stop ahead before you can see Killian and we're already late."

Everything was a rush of sound and colour around her as Emma allowed herself to be taken over by Mary Margaret. When she exited the shower, she was met by a box on the counter. With a long suffering sigh but a telltale smile curving her lips, Emma slipped the top off the box, blushing softly at the sight of the delicate champagne lingerie that lay within the tissue paper that filled the empty space.

Emma slipped into the new lingerie, wrapping a towel around her hair and a bathrobe around her body before heading down to the living room where her mother sat waiting with what seemed to be an unending supply of torture devices with the full intention of using them upon Emma's person.

"Oh, Mom… I don't think…"

"Right, you don't get to think, not tonight, tonight I'm doing all the thinking for both of us, and I think you should sit your butt down and stop worrying so much. Come on, Emma, this is fun!"

With a groan, Emma slipped into the chair her mother had pulled out for her and slumped forward. The next hour was spent fulfilling her promise to Killian to allow Mary Margaret her fun; her hair was dried and curled to perfection down her back, her makeup was done leaving her with shadowed eyes and just the lightest hint of colour to her cheeks and lips; the older woman puttered around her as she pulled the robe from her daughter's shoulders and slipped the delicate champagne dress over her head, tugging and pinching at it until it hung properly in all the right places. The perfect shoes were strapped up her lean calves, accentuated by the light polish Mary Margaret had painted on her normally well hidden toenails. Finally, she reattached the swan necklace that had been put to the side for Emma's shower.

When all was said and done, Emma couldn't argue with the image that peered back from her mother's floor length mirror. She looked incredible.

"Mom…"

Mary Margaret grinned from ear to ear, bouncing forward on her feet. "I know. Your old mom is pretty good at dressing you up, isn't she?"

Emma blinked back sudden tears as she wrapped her arms around her mother, holding the woman close to her.

"Oh!" Mary Margaret gasped, giggling a little as she held Emma to her before releasing her and pushing her towards the door. "Enough of that, or we'll both be crying and I don't want to have to start over from scratch tonight! Come on, stand up straight, I want a picture of my princess on her big night."

"Oh, hey, yeah, no that's really not…" Before she could finish, Emma was blinded by the camera flash and sighed heavily. "You're seriously like a ninja with that thing, y'know?"

Mary Margaret insisted upon a half dozen more pictures before opening the door and taking her daughter's arm, escorting her down the stairs and to the front of the apartment building, not wanting the perfect evening to come to an end.

Wiping away a stray tear from her cheek, Mary Margaret handed Emma a small duffle bag, giving her explicit instructions not to open it until the very end of her night, when all the clues were behind her and only the path she'd chosen to walk was left ahead. She handed her daughter over to her husband, and helped to load the duffle bag in to the back of the truck while David whispered to Emma how perfect she looked, fighting to clear his own stunned expression as she settled into the truck next to him.

Mary Margaret leaned in the window, pressing her lips to David's cheek. "The pirate has great taste, don't you think?"

David chuckled softly, stealing another kiss from his wife's lips. "Of course he does. He chose our kid, didn't he?"

"Like he ever had a choice."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Mary Margaret watched until the truck lights disappeared into the night before turning and heading back up to the loft.

Her baby girl was on a precipice tonight and had only one step left to take before her future would lay open to claim.

~~~TBC~~~

_Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems such a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you agree?_


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 7/8

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Emma/Killian

Rating: T

Spoilers: Yep.

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine, if they were – well, hiatuses just would not exist.

A/N: Two days two days two days two days two days! It's safe to say that I cannot wait until Sunday. As such, here is the second to last chapter of The Ever Circling Path. If I garner enough inspiration between now and Sunday night, I may have the last chapter up in time to say this is bloody finished before the hiatus ended. Wouldn't that be great?! Lol! Thanks for staying with me with this. It's been a TONNE of fun to write and your reviews have meant the absolute world to me. Tonight we have the final relationships in Emma's life coming together – since all of you impatient people were demanding what I had always planned to do! :P~ Now, convince me to write the last part, would ya? Or no Hook and Emma for you! ;)

~~~?~~~

It didn't escape Emma's attention that David was silent the entire long drive from the loft, across town, and very obviously towards the docks. She smiled at him gently, her hand covering his for just a moment, bringing a small curve to his lips. The sadness that radiated from him was buried beneath the happiness that glowed in his clear blue eyes. Somehow, Emma just understood; tonight, in his mind, David was taking the last step to give her away. Oh, sure, it's not like she and Hook would be walking down the aisle in the coming hours (at least, they better not be or she'd have to break her own heart by killing the pirate before dawn), but this step, this game playing, this taking her step by step closer towards Killian, all of it sent David a clear message: if all went well tonight, Emma would no longer be his. Another man would be the important one in her life, and since he'd missed every single moment since she'd been born, that hurt her father. He would never deny her love, but he just wished he had more time. And a prince to offer her rather than the somewhat scraggly, one handed, occasionally alcoholic, recently homeless pirate she'd chosen instead.

For once, Emma found the right words.

"Hey, David?"

He smiled up at her, cocking his head to the side before returning his eyes to the road.

"So, yeah, I know I've never been your little girl, but you know whatever happens, I'll always be your girl, right? Can't really change that, and we've kinda proven it. A lot."

She was rewarded by the blistering grin that spread across his face and the straightening of his shoulders as he glanced at her and then looked straight ahead.

"You have a long list of people you belong to Em." He chuckled, shaking his head. "My girl. Henry's mom. Hook's woman." He paused, waiting for a protest to his words that never came, which lightened him and caused him to sigh at the same time. "As selfish as it sounds, I just don't want to be last on your list, when I never got to be first."

Emma shook her head, looking out her own window. "Jesus, three years ago, who knew I'd be here with more family than I could ever know what to do with? You're never gonna be last, Dad."

He smiled. "That's all I ask. Hey, look up. We're here."

When Emma looked out of the windshield, she was surprised to see her son waving at them in the darkness from only a foot in front of the truck. She couldn't help the grin that took over her lips at the sight of her son, his brown hair askew in the wind, his cheeks pink from the cool air, his hand stretched out to take her own as she stepped out of the truck and towards him. The boy let out a low whistle as he looked over his mother, nodding in approval.

"You look great, Mom."

Even after all the compliments she'd gotten from David and Mary Margaret earlier in the night, her son's hit home the hardest and she blushed. "Yeah, well, I can't deny that the pirate has a good eye for pretty things."

David chuckled behind her. "As I reminded your mother earlier tonight, of course he does, he picked my kid."

Emma was surprised by the silly, breathy laugh that escaped her lips, following the kid as he led her down the length of the wooden dock and towards the small sailboat moored at the end. Rows of white tea lights hung from the mast and sail lines, lighting their way as Henry made sure she was settled on board before turning to hug his grandfather, taking the duffle bag and roses from the older man's hands and settling them safely in the bow of the boat. He headed back towards the docks to loosen the moorings and as the boat set lightly adrift, he returned to Emma's side, carrying a large box and an envelope.

"I got this, Mom; you sit on the bench at the bow and see what Killian left you."

Emma was quietly impressed with Henry's sailing skills as he carefully maneuvered them off the docks and out into open water, sailing easily up the shoreline, watching the stars with what she swore was a trained eye, using them to navigate their progress through the lightly rolling tide.

With a deep breath, knowing Killian wouldn't give her anything questionable in Henry's presence, she opened the box first. Inside was a long, oxblood cloak. Her sudden gasp drew Henry's gaze and he secured the sail before moving over to her, glancing into the box, another low whistle on his lips.

"Wow! I mean holy crap!"

"Right? He's insane!"

Henry laughed lightly, digging into the box to pull the soft, warm fabric out and shake it straight. "Come on, stand up and turn around."

Emma did as her son asked, shaking her head as he latched the soft fabric around her shoulders, grinning as she turned to face him, flipping the hood up over her delicately curled hair.

"So, think your old mom can give Ruby a run for her money in this?"

Henry chuckled, shaking his head as he moved back across the boat, turning them slightly in the water. "Ruby's got nothing on you, Mom."

Emma's grin was crooked as she watched her kid with thoughtful eyes before opening the white envelope that accompanied the cloak. Instant tears once again clouded her green gaze, blurring the sweet words on the page before her eyes.

_My Dearest Emma,_

_I have loved you since the moment I saw you._

_I will love you until my final breath, and beyond._

_Come home, my love. _

_I've been waiting for you for far too long._

_Always yours,_

_Killian Jones._

Henry expertly moved the little sailboat up against a new dock, throwing the ropes easily onto the moorings and jumping out to tie them off before extending a polite hand to his mother.

"You know, it's okay to be happy, right?"

Emma snorted through her tears but was nodding before she even realized it. "I know, kid. It's just not something I'm used to yet."

"Yeah, well, I get the feeling you better get used to it pretty fast."

"Hey, not to bring down this moment, but you really are okay with this? I mean…"

Henry sighed, holding up a hand to stop her. "It's fine, Mom. I don't know if he told you, but I was pretty hard on him with the whole shattered mirror curse. I said stuff that I couldn't take back afterwards, and really, I didn't know if I wanted to take it back anyway. It was pretty much true. Most guys would have bolted after that, I mean who wants to voluntarily put up with someone else's moody teenager, right? Instead, he showed up like the day after the clock tower and took me out sailing, just like I never said anything at all. I mean, who does that? Really? What I said was like a total non issue with him. Only someone who really honestly cares could look the other way after that, y'know? Only family could say they forgive and really mean it. He really means it, Mom. As stupid as it sounds after how hesitant I've been to let him in, we are his family, which kind of makes him ours, don't you think?" Henry grinned. "Besides, he let me sail this girl all by myself, and that's pretty cool."

Emma laughed, holding her kid close, shaking her head. "You're pretty cool, y'know that, kid?"

"Yeah, well, I kind of have to be. Look at my family."

He turned her on the docks and shoved her towards the beach and the small house she could see lit up in the darkness. She reached the door, hesitating before knocking, chewing her lip lightly and jumping as it opened seemingly of its own accord. To say she was surprised to see Regina exit the house was an understatement.

"Miss Swan."

"Regina."

"Henry has offered to take me sailing up the coastline before I take him home for the evening."

Emma smiled, glancing back down to the docks where she could just see her boy adjusting the lit up sails on the small boat. "He's waiting for you."

Regina glanced back at the house, sighing heavily as she shook her head in defeat. "Your pirate has certainly made an impression on our son, Emma."

"Yeah, he has that effect on people. Just worms his way in when you're not looking and takes up residence like he owns the place."

Regina chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "I believe you've described more of a parasite than a boyfriend."

Emma shrugged. "He's good for me; in a weird I'm three hundred years older than you and piss off your father on a constant basis kind of way."

The smile that crossed Regina's face was soft as she looked out at the ocean with unreadable eyes. "He convinced you not to leave Storybrooke with our son. He convinced Henry that there is more to life than story books and video games. He convinced your parents that he's good enough for their precious princess. He is an extremely convincing fellow."

"What has he convinced you?"

The queen shrugged. "That maybe he's worth a second glance." With a wry smile, Regina stepped off the porch and moved a little closer to the docks. "Best not keep Henry waiting for too long, if it gets much colder out here I'll have to charm the boat to keep us warm on our journey." She paused again, sighing. "Henry is happy when you are, Emma. Let yourself be happy for all our sakes."

"You gonna take your own advice, Regina?"

The queen smiled, her gaze once again somewhere off in the distance, lost amongst the waves. "I think this time I will. Goodnight, Miss Swan."

"Night, Regina."

She watched for a moment as the other woman made her way carefully to the docks, their son greeting her with a hug and gently helping her board. Emma continued watching for long minutes, raising her hand in a wave to her son and his other mother as they pulled away from the dock, the tea lights on the boat's sails disappearing on the horizon before Emma dropped her bag onto the porch, and gently placed the pile of roses on top of it.

Two steps. That was all it would take to cross the small porch and enter the house where she was certain her pirate was waiting, maybe a little eager, maybe a little panicked, but most certainly filled with the same breath stealing anticipation that stuttered the normally regular beat of her charmed heart.

With a deep, trembling breath, Emma forced her feet forward, covering those two little steps before her heart could beat another thump in her chest. The door closed silently behind her and the world outside continued on.

~~~TBC~~~

_Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you agree?_


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Ever Circling Path

Part: 8/8 (yep, it's over folks!)

Author: Roguie et al.

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Characters: Killian Jones/ Emma Swan

Rating: T (holy crap, I kept it there too!)

Spoilers: Yep – can't really escape them now! Haha!

Summary: Tired of the distance between them, Killian challenges Emma with an adventure, on that he controls entirely, at least until the final leg of our journey, which is completely out of his hand.

Disclaimer: OuaT isn't mine… if it were, we'd know exactly what happened in the six weeks since we last saw our pirate and savior kissing in a hallway that resulted in him meeting her in the morning for coffee and kisses. He's so whipped. At least they're writing him like I would have done. ;)

A/N: Well. Ho. Lee. Crap. I finished it. Yep, a good twenty thousand words and four months later, it's all done; my little baby inspired by Kristy Bromberg's beautifully written Driven series (and yes, there is a head nod in the fic… I couldn't help it) wrapped itself up in several thousand more words than I expected and um, a big stinking bowl of angst that I hadn't expected. Who knew when you lock an emotional Emma and a volatile Killian in a room together they kind of implode… whoops. So yeah, it ended a bit differently than I had wanted, but at least we got there! LOL Stupid stubborn characters, always having to keep it interesting! I hope everyone enjoys; please don't forget to leave me a note when finished with this because all of your reviews make my day, and sometimes the happiness I get from reading them can change my whole outlook on life that day. I have the musings for a new fic in the works right now, we'll see how that pans out before I start posting anything, though I do promise, for those of you following Parchment/Bottles that I will have a few new letters up in the coming days. Thanks for reading; you've all been amazing to this little tale! So, on to the finish!

~~~?~~~

The first thing that struck Emma was the scent to the little house. The mouth watering aroma of slowly roasting meat filled the small home and made her stomach growl unflatteringly, reminding her that she'd had nothing to eat through out the evening and had indulged in more than a little alcohol upon her journey. Beneath the scent of their dinner lay the even more mouth watering scent of the man who now quite obviously resided in the small building. The unmistakable scent of the ocean just feet from his front porch filled the rooms: salt, seaweed, pure unpolluted air. The biting scent of rum rode olfactory waves and cut right through her senses; it was on her, in her, on him and everywhere in between. Leather dominated the space; his retired duster hanging on a hook behind the door, his new jacket slung across the back of his sofa, his furniture, the frames on the paintings that he'd hung to brighten the room, and his very skin, having rested against the fragrant fabric for so long that the smell lived within his flesh, as undeniable as the man himself.

The second thing that struck Emma was the distinct bolt of longing that slammed into her as she unclasped the cloak from beneath her chin and lowered the oxblood red fabric to rest over his jacket, the two materials entwining on the sofa, leather and silk blending as one, as she rocked on weak knees. Her heart drove an ocean of blood through her body, her ears burning with it, her body swaying with it, the irregular beat so strong and loud in her chest she would have sworn the entire town could hear it. She felt him then, a mere presence in a room he'd constructed, so close but so very far from her that a sensation near pain brought life to every nerve ending she possessed.

"Swan," came his low murmur, approval, love, heat and lust blending in his voice to steal away what remained of the last of her strength.

She turned slowly, swallowing thickly as she dragged her eyes up from his black boots, across the black leathers that he steadfastly refused to shed, to the silk champagne shirt that matched her dress to perfection and the oxblood red handkerchief that he had tucked into his breast pocket. A soft whimper escaped her lips before she managed to pull her eyes up higher, immediately threatening to drown in the ocean of blue that was his hungry gaze. He stood in the small archway between the living room and the kitchen, his fingers braced tightly around the wooden trim, his knuckles white with the pressure of his grip as he devoured the sight of her in his new home. With an unsteady breath, he released the door, reaching out for something and hiding it behind his back before stepping into the room. When he stood a mere foot from her, he bowed gracefully, reaching out to present her with a final long stemmed red rose, this one with a silk bow made from the same fabric as her dress and his shirt tied beneath the bloom, the bow's ends held together by a small white gold and diamond ring, an obvious match to her new necklace.

"Emma, lass, you've taken my breath with your beauty."

He'd lit the room with flickering candles, trails of them leading in different directions; one trail led to the kitchen where dinner promised to satisfy her growling stomach, one trail led up a staircase, no doubt to a well stocked bathroom and an inviting bedroom in which lay a promise to satisfy her trembling body, one trail led to a small glass room off the side of the house and beneath the staircase, and the final trail led to a wooden door that rested closed off the kitchen, well away from the rest of the house.

"Wh…" she almost cursed when her voice shook and broke, the sound curving his soft lips upwards, his eyebrow arching with tease. She cleared her throat, shaking her head as she stepped towards him, lifting the rose from his fingers, eying that little ring with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "When did you find time to do all of this?"

He chuckled softly, inclining his head forward as he shrugged. "It appears that during my days in this realm, I had dedicated my time to one of two ventures: winning against villainous foes, or winning the heart of a fair princess. Once the villainous foes were defeated and the princess thought us not worth her effort, I had more time available to me than I could spend alone."

"Killian, I never thought you weren't worth my effort," she injected quickly, stopping her protests only when he raised his hook, a self depreciating smirk curving his mouth.

"Ah, lass, but how was I to know when you've done naught but shut yourself away from me? While my heart did not break in the time we have spent apart, the organ itself certainly did bend under the threat of it, and a man as old as I, love, knows only one way to distract oneself from such pain… long, hard work." He gestured around the room grandly, cocking his head to the side. "I befriended the angry little man and his companions, quite easily in fact, and between the lot of them and my own need to escape my feelings, the house came together in a rapid manner. We finished the final touches only a few days past. The wolf's grandmother was kind enough to hold my room on the nights I chose to spend working, and quite kindly provided furnishings she had stored away to save me the effort of having to trade what little I have at the various market stalls in town."

Emma couldn't stop the smile that lifted the corners of her lips, or the gentle way her green eyes fell upon him, regret swimming across them as he spoke so directly of their time apart. "So the whole scavenger hunt was to get me here and show me this place? That's a pretty romantic idea for a guy that depends on his good looks and sexy accent to get him into a girl's pants."

His hook rose to cover his heart in mock offense. "I'm wounded, Swan, that you would think so little of me after the amount of time we've spent together."

"Yeah? So how'd you come up with the idea, then? Ruby? Belle? Mary Margaret? Come on, pirate, I know there's more behind this than you're telling me."

He chuckled softly, a tinge of red marring his whiskered cheeks as he shrugged. "I will admit that when the hour became too late to work, I did resort to speaking with the crocodile's wife. At first it was in consideration of how to free the fairies from the blasted hat, but when she realized I was in dire need of a distraction, she provided me with a handful of novels from her building of books." He paused and lifted his eyebrows, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he flashed her a mischievous grin. "I have to say, Swan, your land has a great deal of imagination when it comes to physical relationships."

"Whoa! Wait! What the hell does she have you reading?!" Emma's eyes rounded as she stared at him in surprise, watching as his eyes flicked towards the large bookshelf that dominated the back wall of the living room, guilt, amusement and more than a little interest flashing across his face.

"The titles are of no consequence, love; however the scavenger hunt idea was presented in one of the series of novels she provided for my entertainment. As the story being told dealt with an emotionally damaged dominant male that had chosen a somewhat difficult female with which to mate, of course I was immediately led to think of our rather volatile relationship. As such, when the male character devised a brilliant hunt to lead his woman into his arms, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps such an endeavor could quite possibly prove as successful with an equally as stubborn princess."

Emma couldn't help herself. The laughter bubbled in her chest and burst past her lips, forcing her to step back and lean against the back of the sofa, her entire body shaking as she fought to get herself under control. When his gaze threatened to turn hurt, when the light blue of hope started darkening into something with less life, Emma held up her hand, shaking her head, biting her lip hard.

"That is the stupidest, most ridiculous, sweetest thing I think anyone has ever done for me in my entire life. Seriously, Killian. I don't care where you got the idea, though I'm going to have to talk to Belle about giving you more appropriate reading material, this whole night was way above and beyond. I know things have been tense between us since the whole night at the clock tower, but I honestly never meant to push you away." She gave him a wry, sad little smile and shrugged. "By the time I realized I'd pushed too hard and you had started shutting down, I didn't know how to get us back on track. I never meant for us to be this way."

He nodded, kneeling at her feet as he looked up at her with adoring eyes, his hook playing lightly with the hem of her dress. "I know, love. I never went far, just far enough to give you the blasted space your royal family insisted you required."

Emma paused, her eyes narrowing. "You went to David and Mary Margaret for advice? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "It would appear that the status of our relationship is quite the topic of conversation amongst the town's people, love. You would be surprised to realize the number of well intentioned people that came to me with advice on how to thaw your chilled heart." He frowned. "The wolf was the most prevalent of the lot. Bloody woman has a stubborn streak to rival that of anyone I have met in my incredibly long life. Considering the suggestions she had for us, Swan, you'd do well to be pleased with my choice to approach the prince and princess in my weakness. You'd be apt to find yourself tied to a ship's mast, lacking a corset or the ability to scream had I considered my other options."

Emma cheeks turned a bright pink, her eyes rolling even as a sharp bark of her laughter filled the room. "I am definitely speaking to Belle about what you're allowed to check out of the library."

"Apologies, love, considering the rapturous pleasure taken by the females in the stories provided, it had crossed my mind to try…"

"Shut up," she laughed, blushing an even deeper red that had Killian shifting his position on his knees in immediately pressing discomfort, his eyes chasing the line of red as it spread low beneath the bodice of the dress he'd so carefully chosen for her.

"Gods wept, Swan," he breathed out, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering himself as his breathing deepened and his mouth turned dry.

"What's the matter, pirate?" She quipped, suddenly riding high on the wave of self esteem his tortured, wanting expression broke over her. "Cat got your tongue?"

His eyes flew open, blue orbs immediately capturing her own gaze before purposely traveling down her body, his thick swallow visible as he settled his stare at the top of her thighs where the dress pulled just tightly enough to her skin to accentuate the shadowed V between her thighs. "Ask yourself this, love, do you desire an honest answer to that question, for I am indeed becoming a modern man, and have learned many of the euphemisms of your realm. Cat, for instance, could also be referred to as…"

Emma's gasp stopped his flow of words, dragging his gaze back to her own as once again her pale skin changed color. His eyebrow lifted teasingly at the same time as her hand rose to his lips, covering his mouth with her warm flesh. Words escaped her as she shook her head, trapped somewhere between horror, terror, arousal and amusement.

He chuckled softly, blowing hot breath against the palm of her hand, capturing her wrist with his hook and freeing his lips, pressing them softly to her wrist before releasing her. "Alas, I am far too old to remain on my knees for an extended period of time, love. Perhaps you would allow me to continue with the evening's events before distracting me with your soft touch, your sweet little sounds, or the sight of that pretty little blush as it creeps down towards where I would most indeed like to find my lips."

"Killian!" The word was a half gasp and a half groan as she continued shaking her head, her fingers finding grip on the top of the leather sofa, steadying her as he looked up at her, a filthy grin contradicting the sharp expression of innocence he had perfected in his time.

Taking pity on her, he gave her a true smile, fingers deftly unwrapping the small ring from the ribbons that held it to the rose still in his hand. "I have to admit, Swan, you've impressed me so far with your lack of flight. I had almost expected the moment you laid eyes upon this little trinket that you would find yourself half way back to town before the front door banged open against the wall."

Emma breathed heavily through her nose, her eyes telling him how close to home his words had hit, a wry, apologetic grin softening her expression as she nodded.

"The fact that you have not yet made your escape gives me more hope than you could understand, lass. Now," he paused, shrugging as he smiled up at her, edging just close enough that she could feel the heat of his quiet words through the thin fabric of her dress, warming her stomach as he reached for her right hand rather than her left and slipped the trinket over her finger, unsurprised to find that it fit perfectly. "I realized early in this venture that should I use tonight to ask you to be my wife, whatever restraint you displayed in not fleeing would be lost to the night, as I am afraid you would be. However, as you have pointed out repeatedly, love, I am nearly four hundred years of age, and as such harbor many old fashioned concepts. I cannot with any good conscience, allow tonight to pass without claiming you as my own in some fashion."

Emma snorted softly. "You're not a pirate, you're a caveman."

"Be that as it may, Swan, but the fact remains that one day in the near future I fully intend to make you my wife, until then, if I can do nothing more, I shall claim you as my woman." His tone insisted that she not argue, and that small, hidden part of her that just wanted to give in began to pulse thickly, responding to the man that had captained dozens of pirates in his life, to the man that had survived beyond all odds, to the man that had been born four hundred years before her and yet had undoubtedly been born only for her. "You will wear my ring, Emma, as my claim, as my promise, as your promise not to return to the stinking depths of Man-hatt-an when I approach you with my real ring."

Weakly she nodded, cocking her head to the side as she twisted the ring on her right hand, and then with a deep breath pulled it from her finger. "I don't want to wear this…"

She didn't get to finish; immediately floored with rejection, Killian sprang to his feet with a grace no man of his age should manage. He was across the room, had his back to her and his fingers digging into the poor, abused doorframe, splintering the thin wood with the absolute force behind his tremulous hold on his emotions before she could form the next word.

"What the hell, Hook?" she gasped out, her green eyes wide and shocked, watching him with uncertainty as he shuddered in the doorframe.

"Why won't you have me, Swan?" His voice was startlingly weak, immediately devoid of all emotion as he reined the disastrous feelings in, burying them deep beneath the gaping wound that was his heart. "Have I not yet proven myself loyal? Have I not yet proven myself true? Have I not yet proven my love for you, because, Emma, I cannot think of anything more with which to convince you that my heart only beats because you are in this world?" He didn't turn as the words poured from his lips, but the rigid bend in his spine told her everything. He was hunching forward, hook to his chest, fingers pulling wood from the wall, as he struggled to hold his heart inside his body when all it wanted to do was splinter and tear away, leaving the man a shell of the pirate that had lived for so long. "You have ruined me, my love," a mere whisper now, pulled back so far from the world around him. "I thought to meet you here with flowery words, place myself at your feet and beg for you to accept my claim. I thought we had come far enough together that my love would be enough. How do I stop, Emma?"

She shook her head, half way across the room before she found her voice, confused, hurt, and suddenly heart stoppingly terrified. "Stop what? Killian, I don't…"

"How do I stop loving you?"

His words were like ice water poured without mercy down her spine. Everything inside of her reared up and began to tremble. Hot, salty tears filled her eyes and before she gave them permission to fall were burning her suddenly numb lips. Every synapse in her brain fired at once, her arms jerking helplessly at her side, her knees threatening to send her to the floor, but somehow she managed to take two steps closer to her shattering pirate.

"Don't you dare, Killian Jones," she hissed through clenched teeth. "I've been shown a thousand times in my life that it's pretty goddamned easy to stop loving me because until I came here, every single person in my life had, so don't you dare for one second become one of them." She hated the whimper that provided the foundation for her next words. "You didn't let me finish what I was saying… I don't want to wear your ring…"

"Bloody hell, Swan!" he cursed, his fingers tightening, the wood splintering even further.

Instead of stopping, Emma ignored him, her voice pointed and strong. "On my RIGHT hand. I'm not saying that we're gonna go white dresses and fields of flowers and bridesmaids and churches, but a ring that promises forever is supposed to be on my left. I don't want us to be temporary, to wonder if we have an expiry date, y'know? I want forever, I really do. Until we're ready to do the whole marriage thing, I want to wear it properly… like it's holding a place for the real ring." Even though his back was to her, she shrugged as if he could see her, half apologizing for her words that were no where near as perfect as his. "So, please don't stop loving me?" Her voice broke and suddenly dropped to a wretched, rough whisper. "If you do, I'm kinda screwed over here, 'cause I don't know how to stop loving you."

She couldn't know the power behind her words. She had no idea the electricity that flowed through her pirate's body, the burn that seared over every inch of his flesh, the fierce molten fire that filled his veins and began instantly molding his heart back together. She couldn't know that it took more strength than he thought he possessed to continue standing. She couldn't know that his brain turned off, that his eyes flew open, that the pained groan that escaped his lips should have been her name and instead was nothing more than a guttural expression of his overwhelming emotions. Until he turned to face her, his eyes so blue that she could see herself reflected in their depths, deep, rolling waves of hope, love, promise and determination flowing across his face in a continual repeated slideshow, she couldn't know that her simple, non-flowery words healed every broken bit Killian possessed.

"You love me?"

"Not like you left me much of a choice."

"Don't toy with my heart, Swan," he growled, releasing the door and stepping towards her, fingers finding her hair and pulling back on her head until she was forced to meet his eyes, filled with so much hope and longing that she thought she would shatter under the weight of it. "Say the bloody words, lass. I need to hear them again."

"Going deaf in your old age, Killian?"

"Emma!" he begged, tightening his grip in her hair until it bordered on painful, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Carefully meeting his eyes, she nodded as best as she could in his hold. "I. Love. You. Killian. Jones."

"Again."

"Killian…"

"Again, Emma."

She sighed, leaning in to press her lips to his. "I love you. I love you. I love you." She kissed him softly with each declaration. "I love you. Now let go of my hair before I'm forced to kill you and start back at square one."

"Like hell!" he growled, using his grip on her to tug her fully into his arms, soundly claiming her lips, teeth and tongue meeting somewhere in the middle. It was a rough, sloppy, meeting of flesh and bone, but when they finally pulled away, their heart beats matched in their own private racing rhythm, their mouths curved in identical smiles, and for once their eyes met without anything between to shadow the emotions coursing through both their bodies.

"So, gonna show me the rest of the house, or do I just get to see the living room?"

"Be careful what you imply, my love," he growled in her ear, spinning her away from him to push her towards the staircase. "You have me balanced on a precipice tonight, Emma, caught somewhere between pirate and man. You'd best watch what your smart mouth carries to my ears lest you find yourself ravaged by a desperate soul before dinner even has a chance to finish cooking."

The whimper that escaped her lips at his words should have been embarrassing, would have been utterly humiliating, if it had been anyone beyond Killian privy to the small sound. In the candlelit darkness, she could practically feel his feral grin, her own body trembling in response.

"However, if it is indeed the house that you wish to explore, then you will not find this pirate standing in your way, love." With a hand to her back, Killian directed her up the stairs. He winked at her in reassurance as her skin began flushing red again, the understanding gleam in his eyes enough to relax her suddenly rigid stance and she climbed the small staircase to the second story. "I found myself lucky with this dwelling. The foundation was solid, as were the walls, but the inside had been removed, leaving it a blank page upon which to be written." He grinned. "I thought to model the house in a similar fashion as your parent's apartment. The main bedroom is at the top of the stairs," to keep her from feeling pressured, he leaned over to press open the door, displaying the room quickly from the hall. Windows spanned the entire one side of the room, allowing for an uninterrupted view of the ocean. Emma couldn't help but imagine what it would be like awaking to the steady stream of sunlight that would fill this room every morning, and the fresh, salty air that would come in on the wind. It would be exhilarating. She groaned her approval as she took in the sight, noting the large, hand crafted bed frame encasing what appeared to be a very soft mattress. The dressers that lined the interior wall of the room matched the wood of the headboard and footboard, making her grin at her slightly compulsive man.

"No time to dally," he breathed with a light, airy wave of his hand, pulling her out of the bedroom and across the hall. "This was created entirely with comfort in mind," he chuckled as he swung open the only other door in the hallway, sure enough a ridiculously large bathroom, complete with a double wide waterfall shower, glass doors and benches. Separate from the shower lay the Jacuzzi tub, with over a dozen jets just waiting to work at the kinks in her back after a long day of being knocked on her ass by the big bad of the week.

"Nice," she grinned, her eyes already laying claim to the tub, a lifted eyebrow daring him to oppose.

Without argument he snapped shut the door and pulled her back to the stairs. "Come on, Swan, there's more to see."

She laughed as he held her to his side, pulling her down the stairs and to the glass alcove she'd seen as she'd entered the house. A single eyebrow lifted as she noticed the single cot that lay within, surrounded by antique bookcases and a roll top desk. All faced the same glass wall that spanned the bedroom upstairs. "You see, love," Killian began, a hint of discomfort suddenly catching his words in his throat. "I thought that perhaps you would enjoy spending more time in this house than the rules of dating would infer. I mean no pressure on presenting a physical relationship," his eyebrow lifted, a hint of tease glowing in his gaze, "However, as we both appear to be seeking new residence, I thought we could attempt co-habitation. The room upstairs would be yours; safe from this dastardly pirate, until such a time as you would consider inviting me between your thighs."

Emma chuckled softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "You couldn't make it an entire night without threatening to tie me to masts and ravish me, how are you going to do platonic if we're together every minute of the day?"

"Once again, Swan, you have grossly underestimated me. My willpower is uncontestable." He announced proudly.

Lifting an eyebrow, Emma turned away from him, slowly lifting one leg up onto a chair he had tucked into the corner, leaning forward with purposeful grace, hiking her dress up to just above her knee as she adjusted the strap holding the delicate show to her freshly painted feet.

The groan that tore from his chest brought fresh laughter to her lips, and she threw her head back, both exhilarated and just a little terrified of how badly Killian wanted her, whatever way he could have her.

"Seven hells, minx!" he cursed, shaking his head, his own laughter joining hers as he tried to inconspicuously adjust himself inside his suddenly too tight, too warm leathers. "I imagined you a lady, my love, where in fact you're a vile temptress."

"And yet, my point is made." She grinned. "We wouldn't last three days living together before finding ourselves in bed, Killian."

His face fell slightly, and she watched as he used Herculean force to wrench himself back into a light hearted expression. He shrugged at her, giving her a quick smirk before excusing himself into the kitchen with a quick, "As you like, Swan. I believe our meal for the night is nearly finished, I'll be just a moment."

She frowned at his back, deep in thought as she moved across the living area to the door that was closed off to the back of the house. It opened easily under her fingers and swung inwards; the candle light barely illuminated the third bedroom, but it only took her a moment before she recognized shapes she was seeing. A twin bed, a dresser, a bookshelf. On the dresser lay a baseball glove and ball. Leaning in the corner were two identical fishing rods. The ceiling glowed in the low light, complete constellations making up the roof of the first floor bedroom. A dream catcher lay in the window, the woods that backed onto the house shrouding the moon's natural light, making the room quiet, and private. On the second shelf of the bookcase lay a sextant that looked older than Killian himself. As she walked deeper into the room, she snagged a candle from the path on the floor Killian had constructed to light the way. With the help of the firelight, she was able to read the titles on the books that lined the shelves. Fairy tales, comic books, sailing guides, maps and atlases, and encyclopedias. The only television she'd seen in the entire house was mounted in the corner facing the bed, what appeared to be a brand new Xbox and a brand new play station sitting on the shelf beneath it.

She swallowed around the lump that built uncomfortably big in her throat and quickly backed out of the room, shutting the door and replacing the candle, moving towards the sofa before Killian came out of the kitchen.

"I've a table set in here, love," he smiled at her. "I can only hope that I've done the roast justice as it is the first time I've attempted using the appliance without your dear mother to assist."

Emma lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. "Mary Margaret's been here?"

"Aye, lass; she quite enjoyed supplying the galley with much needed modernization."

It was the final shot in whatever battle Emma was waging inside herself. The laughter that bubbled from her lips was just this side of hysterical, and lasted until the tears started. Once the tears began, she couldn't stop them, leaving her entire body literally heaving with the force of them.

"Blo.. Emma!" Killian was on his knees beside her in a second, hand on her thigh, hook against her neck as he stared imploringly up into her tear stained face, a distinct look of terror chasing away the easy smile that normally lived upon his lips.

"What is the last room, the one you didn't show me?" Emma nodded towards the door in the corner.

Killian shrugged quickly. "A guest bedroom, I believe is what the grumpy dwarf called it. In the event we should have a visitor that wishes to spend the night."

"Yeah? What's with the sailing books? And comic books? And the stupid baseball glove?" Her words were harshened by her tears, she wished she could soften them but instead just met his eyes with a desperation she didn't fully understand.

Killian sighed, knowing he was caught. With a groan he climbed to his feet, settling into the sofa next to her, tugging her head to rest on his shoulder, the soft silk of his shirt immediately absorbing her every tear. "Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?"

"To hear the truth," she murmured back. "Super power."

"Swan, I have quite obviously declared myself to you; I have declared my intentions to your father, my emotions to your mother, bared my bloody soul to a wolf who has claimed herself your guardian; if you think for a single moment that I had no intention of bringing Henry along on this adventure, that I haven't understood all along that you come as a package, you have no idea the man beneath the pirate."

His words only made her cry harder; helpless, Killian sat beside her, holding her, stroking her hair until the years of loneliness poured out of her and a quiet calm took over.

"Well, that sucked," she sniffled, laughing a little at herself, avoiding Killian's gaze as her cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

"On the contrary, love," he smiled down at her, shrugging a little, "I thought it was brilliant."

"Oh great, you like watching me cry?"

He shrugged again. "No, Swan, I like watching you heal."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Emma finally lifted her eyes to his, drinking in the truth behind his words. "What's in the duffle bag Mary Margaret told me not to open until I was sure?"

Killian chuckled at the turn in their conversation, pressing a light kiss to her forehead before climbing to his feet and rescuing her bag from the porch. "A few necessities if you were to spend the night."

"Necessities beyond the evening gown, lingerie and a million roses?"

Killian grinned. "Do you wish to return to your parent's loft in the morning dressed in the same clothing you left with tonight? It was the wolf who threatened my manhood should I allow you to perform what she termed, a walk of shame."

Laughter replaced tears as Emma reached for her bag, quickly tossing it over her shoulder and climbing to her feet. "I guess I'll go put this in my room, and then dinner?"

He nodded quietly, watching as she walked up the stairs, his eyes glowing with fresh hope and sparkling with excitement the entire time he waited for her to rejoin him. He knew the movements were a distraction to stop him from wanting to talk about her breakdown, and he was okay with that. For the moment. The time would come in the future that they would have to look deeper beneath the surface and bring down those last walls that she had protecting what was a heinous past. Killian wasn't kidding himself, he understood, now more than ever, that the distance they had to cross still remained vast and open; she would lash out, cry, grow angry and probably try to walk away before conceding to his imminent victory. In the meanwhile, old wounds would heal, old memories would fade, and old insecurities would crumble, all given just a little time. If nothing else, Killian Jones was a patient man; he'd perfected lying in wait two hundred years before his savior had even been born; his entire life led him to being the man she needed.

Besides, she hadn't actually said no to moving in.

He'd never worn a more honest expression than the smile that took over his whole face in that single moment in time. He was still grinning like a mad fool when Emma rejoined him in the kitchen, settling down to enjoy what would ultimately be the first of many, many nights surrounded by the safe harbor of their home.

~~~Fin~~~

_Remember, much like magic, all muses come with a price. This muse's price is that little review box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it seems a bloody awful waste of her time, wouldn't you agree? _


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